


Backbone of the cult of Void

by hisaribi



Series: Neon witches verse [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cults, Human Theo Raeken, Kinda, Lovecraftian, M/M, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, The Void, Witch Stiles Stilinski, Witches, cult leader Theo Raeken
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-27 00:22:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21109625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hisaribi/pseuds/hisaribi
Summary: Theo would put his life for it without hesitation, if he needs to.And he knows Stiles’ll do the same.





	Backbone of the cult of Void

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so, holy shit  
I started it as [twitter thread](https://twitter.com/hisaribi/status/1183204086419742722) (in Russian, so take care), and amazing ctrlkun who illustrated a few fics for me, got interested in it and drew like the best art: [just look](https://ctrlkun-i-raduga.tumblr.com/post/188511947367/an-illustration-for-whoishisaribi-neon-witches)  
this thread mostly talks about aesthetics, not concerned with teen wolf, because I wanna try and explore this universe for an original story, but because ctrl illustrated one of my pre-steo stories, and she knew we are having steo spooktober, she was so kind with this thingie, ah!  
And I've got so hyped for the art that I kinda wrote a whole fic for it, while not planning anything for it lol good job, me

Some people say every cult needs a god. That’s a very degrading term. God is something that doesn’t exist, and Theo knows it better than anyone else.

But Void – Void is a completely different matter. It exists. Right on the surface, and yet, you can only catch it in passing. Something dark and unwelcome. Something that was here before the light and any of “gods” started existing. It’ll stay even after everything is gone.

Inescapable fate. Everything starts with Void, everything ends with it. People’s minds come from nothingness. To nothingness, they’ll escape their meat suits called bodies.

The Beacon Hills is fondled by Void.

Maybe that’s its isolated location.

Maybe it’s the mist that hugs the town. Coddles around it like a welcoming presence you can feel even on sunny days.

Maybe that’s the forest who invites lost people in and gives them a place within.

Maybe that’s the neon lighting that pierces through the night, illuminating empty streets at night like it’s a day.

Too many maybes for Theo’s liking, but that’s what Void is – a trickster, which knows it’ll stay there even after they are gone. For it, everything that happens is mere moments of fun.

Void is inevitable. It’s something Theo came close back in childhood. When the whole town wanted to burn him and two other kids for things they didn’t do. It’s something that kept him alive years later.

The cult needs a god. But what they worship is so much bigger than any entity that could exist.

Five years after graduating high school and moving out. Theo was reluctant to come back, after what happened – _what they did, mocking voice says, Stiles doesn’t even look at him from the phone he’s playing some game at_ – with Argents.

But when Void is calling its children home, they can’t say no to it.

It’ll lead them there anyway, no use to resist. One better comply, otherwise it’ll make them come by force. Void is so much stronger than the force of nature. You can’t even think of fighting it. Havoc awaits ones who struggle Void.

Theo knew some people – back then they were teens – decided to disobey it. They were so eager back then, but then they grew up, the “cult is bad!” nonsense filled their pretty heads. But they should’ve known back in the high school, and they better learn it now again – it’s unavoidable.

The cult of Void. Now the name seems a bit childish, but Theo won’t try and change it. Not after their very own prophet huffed and said he liked it.

Their witch. With eyes gleaming gold at day and staying pitch black at neon light. Theo leads the cult, and he will lead it, while he can. Even if to get closer to his prophet.

Neon tells the truth, it always does. There are too many half-tones in the sunlight, that’s why Theo operates in the daytime. Because the night and the neon lighting are periods for verity and closeness to Void. To their prophet, the witch, his Stiles.

After Theo graduated, his parents sold the house and moved away. They left Tara’s grave behind and didn’t even want to come back to visit it. And that was ok. They wanted to see light and gods. Not truth and calming emptiness Void provided.

So he came back, with money he managed to earn during his university years. He was lucky he didn’t have a student loan. His parents paid for school, even though he could get a sports scholarship. He also worked hard, because he knew he’ll be back.

There was a building not too far from the main street for a sale. Two stores, spacy, not too worn-down, on a cross-road. It wasn’t perfect but was exactly what they need. They renovate the first floor for a small cafe, the second floor is empty for now, and he can’t reach the attic yet.

On the left side, there’s a medical shop. Not a drug-shop, at least, they don’t sell things you should use in hospitals. Herbs, tinctures, poultices, tonics, powders… everything that’s considered a “traditional medicine” sells there. Marin, who owns this place, stares at them indifferently. She watches everything like that. She’s a druid, one that believes in her own god – balance. Void huffed at it. Stiles found it a bit concerning.

A few stores on their side of the road are electronic ones and a convenient one. Nothing special. There’s no cafe in this area.

Across the road, they have some more “magic-related” shops. One sells books. Another sells alive plants. One more buys things you can only imagine selling. The one that’s in front of their cafe sells one's future.

Real oracles are very dangerous. One can’t know if the future shapes itself according to their words, or their words are shaped by the future.

The one who owns this shop is semy-real. Jennifer has a gift, but she sucks at it.

There’s also a bright neon sign with letters and images of cards. It lights the whole second floor through a wide window. The one where two people can sit.

It’s nighttime. The one when Void is strong and is hugging dark corners. Cases a distortion of light. Blurs shapes.

Theo’s used to it already. He concentrates on letters and pictures in front of him. It makes sense, but in a way, he doesn’t understand.

Stiles’ knee is on his tights, a comforting warm presence. Out of a corner of his eyes, he sees him smiling softly.

It’s not always like that. In the day they bicker like a married couple, too loud and sometimes obnoxious. They can’t stand each other in the daylight yet. They always look like they are on the verge of break up over stupid things, and yet, they are still together.

Because they have night and neon.

It doesn’t begin right away. When evening or morning comes, their jaded corners soften a bit. They become less aggressive and more calmed. One day, they’ll be able to bring this quiet feeling in the daytime. When Stiles would finally stop himself being unable to be loved and just admits Theo won’t go anywhere even as he throws worst things at him. When Theo would finally chill a bit and let Stiles catch up.

In the nighttime when they almost don’t talk. And even if they have to use words, they are hushed and soft. Gentle even. Not like they aren’t filled with sarcasm and snide remarks, but there’s still this warm feel about it.

It feels like home.

Touches so passing and light. Almost tender. Too affectionate to not feel like a dream when the sunrise comes.

Even features of their faces soften. Like they are still these seventeen or so teens in the last row in the cinema. Kissing almost awkwardly, even though both had some previous romantic experiences.

That’s sure Void’s doings. They feel safe surrounded by it. Open. Exposed. Real.

Theo feels how Stiles leans toward him and looks back, finding his face a few inches away. Only a few inches.

Void’s witch eyes are still black in the bright neon lighting. And yet, they are the most delicate Theo ever saw in the day.

Stiles’ lips aren’t soft, a bit weather-beaten. His fingers are strong on Theo’s hand. And yet, that’s what he will never exchange for anything.

This feeling of being in control, and yet, controlling nothing.

That rollercoaster of emotions he got.

The certainty that his witch is loyal to him and Void, and he’ll not be betrayed.

The uncertainty he’ll live till the dawn.

The distorted neon lighting that changes the world so much.

The mist – or that’s a cloud that got caught by the town – that lurked right outside the window.

The soft hum of acknowledgment and whispered good luck wish that sounds more like a charm.

Theo would put his life for it without hesitation if he needs to.

And he knows Stiles will do the same.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://whoishisaribi.tumblr.com/)   
[vk](https://vk.com/who_is_hisaribi)


End file.
